


Powerful Forces

by morgana07



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brother Feels, Gen, Light Angst, Schmoop, Spoilers, Thoughtful Dean, Worried Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 11:42:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3207914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgana07/pseuds/morgana07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1-shot. A comment from Sam leaves Dean wondering if he still has anything left inside to allow him to fight the dark pull of the Mark. *Thoughtful!Dean & Concerned/worried!Sam* SPOILERS!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Powerful Forces

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Some minor language but yeah, they may also be some spoilers.  
> Tags: 10x10 Hunter Games  
> Spoilers: Yes, there will be some spoilers. Not too many but some.  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.  
> Author Note: Yes, it’s been a while since I posted anything general or taggish but the muse has been in J2 land lately and nothing gen-wise has been popping. After watching the new episode this little piece of brotherly schmoop popped up. I know it’s short but I’ll try to do more gen stories in between other pieces. Enjoy!

**Powerful Force**

“‘Maybe that powerful force has to come from inside of you.’”

Dean Winchester leaned in the doorway to the main room of the bunker watching his younger brother pour over his laptop in search of a scrap of missed lore or anything that might lead them to a way to free him from the damn mark on his arm.

The Mark of Cain. A mark put on Dean by the very first murderer. A mark Dean had accepted without listening to the damn warnings that went with it and now here he was trying to remove it before he goes full on Dark Side one more time; a time when perhaps it will be Sam who pays the ultimate price.

Rubbing the mark which seemed calm for the moment he thought to how it had felt in that house when he’d massacred those assholes. Dean thought to how much control he’d lost in the dungeon when he’d been so close to killing Metatron…when he’d cost them their one lead on possibly how to remove it. Then he thought to when he hadn’t killed those two assholes that had jumped him earlier.

Sam had made a point when he mentioned earlier that Cain had worn the mark for years; hell centuries and had controlled the urge to kill, to hurt. Hell, the damn guy had been keeping bees when Dean had tracked him down so what was the secret to keeping the mark from turning him into a raging nutcase?

A powerful force. An inner strength maybe as Sam had suggested. Perhaps there was a part of Dean that longed to give into the feeling that came with it and if there was the older Winchester knew in his heart that while he could blame a lot of it on his time in Hell or even Purgatory…but there was more.

The mark gave him a sort of excuse when he lost control. It gave him something to blame his anger, his rage and his lack of control; the control that he’d kept since he was younger and first realized the path his life was now on.

A stern lecture on self-control from their father had taught Dean that he always needed to be in control. His emotions could never control him and while he got angry he always had to let the anger work for him. This was the lesson he lived by from the time he was probably eight years old until he went to Hell and literally became the apprentice to a master torturer. And even then he had controlled his emotions.

Since getting the Mark it seemed easier to use it as an excuse to let go of that control. If he beat the crap out of some ass in a bar he had an excuse. If he killed a roomful of dicks who’d been willing to rape a teenage girl, he had an excuse…if he killed the goddamn scribe to God that had killed him and caused a lot of Dean’s recent issues then he also could have blamed the Mark. If he had succeeded in killing his own little brother while still a demon…well, that could’ve been blamed on a couple things but still the Mark would have been a driving force.

Now as Dean realized with ever increasing horror and shame that the Mark on his arm would end up destroying him or Sam he tried to think on how Cain could’ve done it.

Tossing the First Blade after he’d used it to kill his wife while Abbadon had possessed her wouldn’t have removed the temptation since Dean didn’t have the damn blade and the Mark was still aching for violence so what had it been?

“‘It could be the powerful force has to come from inside you.’”

“I have to want to fight it,” he murmured, not realizing he’d spoken out loud until he heard Sam talking to him. “Cain tossed the blade after Abbadon possessed his wife and he killed her accidentally. The Mark had cost him his one true love and he vowed to never use the blade again.”

Sam pushed the laptop away to turn in his chair, the worry plain that he didn’t even bother to try to hide anymore. “Granted Cain had a lot more years to work on the whole resisting the mark thing but…he did it. They key is how?”

“I think it might be like you said. The will to fight against the Mark had to come from within him because he saw what it finally had cost him,” Dean took a deep breath as he thought of that and then down at his arm. “Until we can find some miracle way to remove this, I have to find it within myself to resist the need to kill or hurt. I have to push down my anger and all the emotions that have been coming out after years of burying them.”

Pausing to take a sip of beer while gazing at his brother, Sam considered that. He’d hardly known a time until recently that his older brother wasn’t repressing his emotions to one degree of another. Oh, granted he knew Dean had and still did and probably always would bury the lighter or softer ‘chick flick’ emotions since Dean just wasn’t comfortable sharing or discussing those; but Sam also knew that despite a lot of crap that in many ways Dean had covered a lot of anger and hate.

He’d watched his older brother cover his anger over things with their Dad, or their lives, or their own problems and that even when Dean did get angry there was always a bit of it that stayed buried and locked away…until now.

Now, the Mark allowed those buried anger and other emotions to come out so Dean was having a hard time finding that inner strength to lock them down.

“So…we need to find you a focal point or something to make you want to fight the Mark; to use the inner strength that we both know is inside you…the inner strength that allowed you to survive Hell and Purgatory to come out whole both times,” Sam pushed to his feet to move to a shelf of books to start pulling old volumes out.

“I didn’t come out of either of those times ‘whole’, Sammy,” Dean chose to remind him as neither of those times, especially Hell, were things he liked to recall.

“No, but you came out sane so there has to be a spark of the inner strength you had those times still in you to fight this until I can find a way, and I will find a way, to get _that_ off of your arm,” Sam remarked firmly as he tossed books on the table to go back to the laptop. “I know you don’t like either of those times but…can you try to remember what made you fight to survive? What did you draw on to keep you strong and sane?”

Dean had walked over to sit on the edge of the table near where Sam was working to watch him. He recognized the familiar look of determination that Sam had always gotten when determined to do something and thought that it was the same look his brother had gotten anytime growing up when he wanted to accomplish something.

Reaching over to take Sam’s beer to drink from it Dean considered the question carefully. He knew the answer. It was the same to both his time in Hell and when he’d been in Purgatory. Dean just wasn’t certain if he was ready to admit it yet or not.

“Dean?” Sam looked up, face scrunched up from too long at the computer and not enough sleep. “C’mon, I know you don’t like to talk about those times and I’m not asking about what happened since I know better but there had to be something that made you get through it or fight to not give in to insanity or whatever.

“What was my inner strength those times?” Dean asked quietly, tipping the bottle back to finish the beer and buy himself more time before admitting he’d call do-over on the no-chick flick moment later. “You.”

Sam was reaching for his beer to take it back when he stopped, frozen as he tried to replay this moment to be sure he’d heard his older brother correctly. “What?”

“In both 40 years my time in Hell or a year in Purgatory the thing, the one main thing, that I focused on that made me want to keep sane or fight to maybe get the hell, no pun, out of both places? I thought of my pain in the ass little brother,” Dean finally told him, careful to keep his voice steady even as he watched Sam’s eyes go huge and then soft.

“When I was in Hell, I fought to survive what was done to me and then what I did to others by thinking of you and what might be going on because I knew I’d messed up and had left you in a mess,” he placed the empty beer bottle to the side while giving the cap a spin in order to have something else besides deep and dark puppy dog eyes to look at. “Purgatory was the same. I fought to keep my head attached because I wasn’t sure what you were doing…don’t,” he caught Sam’s arm before he pulled away. “I let that go and I told you to but you asked me what my inner strength those times were and now I’ll tell you what my inner strength will be this time.”

Dean reached into a pocket to pull out two pictures. One from about 10 years ago and one more recent, laying them on the table. “From six months old until the day my body burns on a hunter’s pyre you, Sammy, will be my inner strength,” he said and heard his voice drop to the lower, thicker one that only came out when those emotions were on the surface. “I guess if I have any powerful force inside me to make me want to fight this damn mark than it’s going to be knowing you’re still here fighting for me even after all the crap and bullshit I’ve done and given you. You could walk away, little brother.”

Sam blinked, having been startled by that admission and half tempted to reach for the Holy water but didn’t. “You’ve been fighting for me since the night Mom died,” he began shakily, standing slowly. “You gave up so much of your life to look out for me, to raise me, to teach me the stuff I know. You went to Hell for me, Dean…no, don’t because we both know that if you had let me go that night none of this would be happening.”

“I told you the reason I did it. I don’t regret it and I’d do it again…except I don’t think Crowley would want that,” Dean replied, glad to see a small grin on Sam’s face because he didn’t want his brother thinking about those time now.

“You said that Cain took that mark, that he killed his brother, to save him from Lucifer,” Sam took Dean’s arm to turn it enough to look at the Mark of Cain for a long moment. “If I could take that mark from you, to save you from going down this path then I would.”

“Like hell,” Dean growled, eyes narrowing as he considered something Michael had mentioned years ago that had him wondering. “You will let Castiel throw my ass into the sun before you come close to this mark. I will fight it the rest of my life if giving it to you might ever be an option to be rid of it.”

Sam should’ve seen that coming and decided to leave that thought for later or when he could ask Castiel about it. Right then he went back to his original thought. “My point is, you’ve been fighting for me all my life, Dean. We’re all that’s left. I will fight for you because you’re my big brother and I’m not letting that damn mark be what takes you out,” he shrugged. “We will beat this. I will not let go this time.”

Dean nodded, hesitating as he held Sam’s eyes a moment longer before giving in. “C’mere and don’t say I didn’t do anything for you lately,” he grumbled as he tugged his brother forward into a hard hug; holding it a moment or two longer when he felt Sam hold on. “Okay, enough chick flicks. I need another beer and you need to sleep so log out or I’m shutting it down by unplugging it and you know you hate when I do that,” he said while pulling back, seeing a smile as Sam did shut down the laptop instead of arguing with him.

“Dean?” Sam called as Dean headed for the kitchen. “You…will fight this, right?”

Dean wasn’t sure if he was strong enough this time as he hadn’t been the same man who fought Hell and Purgatory in a long time but as he looked between his arm and his brother he nodded. “Yeah, Sammy. _We_ will fight this.”

Leaving Sam to shut the lights off, Dean did go into the kitchen to grab a couple more beers as he knew Sam wouldn’t go to bed yet and they’d end up watching movies on his laptop until he did.

Running a hand over his arm, Dean slipped a hand into his pocket to feel the item he’d placed in there after digging through the Impala’s trunk to find it. He felt the warmth of the little amulet and took a deep breath. “I will fight this,” he muttered to himself; vowing to fight and win or find a way to end it without endangering Sam.

**The End**


End file.
